


Not My Fault

by WNBlog



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28912224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WNBlog/pseuds/WNBlog
Summary: Legolas loves getting his Ada into trouble. He lived for it.
Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Reader, Thranduil/Thranduil's Wife
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	Not My Fault

Thranduil was exhausted. From morning to afternoon, he had meetings with his council members. He had to sit and listen to outdated ideas from morning to afternoon. Sometimes, Thranduil wondered why he kept the old elves as council members. They are clearly too old. Where they should be enjoying their remaining days on Middle-Eath, they were working through the politics of Erin Lasgalen. And if they were presenting revolutionary ideas, at least they would be actually helping the King of the Woodland Realm. But no. Their ideas were too dated and difficult to apply to these times. Time has changed without them. It was inevitable that they remained focus on their prime. Thranduil couldn’t blame them. It was one of the drawbacks of immortality after all. 

Thranduil lets out a tired sigh. His afternoon lunch was long overdue. He should at least make sure Legolas was fed even if he didn’t eat anything. He was a growing elf after all. He had to at least eat properly so that he could grow as tall as his father. He wanted to see (y/n)’s face when Legolas would grow a head taller than her. He couldn’t wait to tease his beloved wife. With a grin, Thranduil turned to look behind him, asking his son, ‘‘What do you want for lunch, Legolas?’’ No answer. Instead, a heavy silence fell on Thranduil. Where Legolas was supposed to be, there was only unoccupied space. ‘‘Legolas?’’ The King turns his head around, looking for the young prince. Still, Thranduil managed to keep his calm. Legolas is a mere boy. He couldn’t have gone that far after all. And so, the King went to look for his only son. 

Thranduil looked into every nook and cranny for a sign of a long head similar to his. He searched the gardens, the kitchens, even his quarters. But no sign of the young prince. Panic was starting to sneak into his bones. ‘Did he get kidnap?!’ He was certain that Legolas was beside him during the whole morning. He remembers the young elf asking for his approval at his drawings of a family portrait. He remembers having breakfast with his son and his wife before she took off to her duties for the day. He insisted that he could look after his little trouble-maker for the day, insisting that his wife enjoyed her stroll with her friends for the day. Oh, Valar. His wife will strangle him if she comes back and finds that he lost Legolas sometime during his meetings. She would surely kill him. Or worse. She would demand to sleep in her maiden chambers for a week for his negligence. Just thinking about it made the feared King of Erin Lasgalen gulped. With a more urgent stride, Thranduil sets off to find help from some of his most trusted guards to find his wandering son before sunset. He had three hours exactly before his wife finds his mistake.

He remembers the council members covering their cooing with ‘coughs’ each time Legolas showed him a new drawing. That meant that Legolas was attending the meeting with him. So it had to be when he was walking towards the dining room to feed him. Thranduil traced back his steps as best as he could. He went back to the council room, the throne room, once more their private chambers. 

Outside, the sky was turning a soft orange hue. Time was tickling. His guards returned empty-handed. They had no idea where the prince could have gone. Thranduil was growing annoyed and worried. He paces back and forth in the privacy of his room. His eyes dart to the door every few minutes. He could feel his anxiety building up. His mind was running a mile, trying to search through his memories of the last few hours. But none of them gave him the information he needed. The tasked his wife bestowed upon him that morning should never have been that difficult. He should have been able to find him by now. I mean, where could Legolas sneak off to when the palace's gates were closed? He couldn't have gotten out. He must be somewhere around the palace, right?... Right?! So where in Ada's name is that little devil he calls 'son'?! 

The door to his room opens silently. Thranduil gulped. He was not ready to face her yet. What could he say in his defence? His son left his side as silently as a spider crawls up behind you! He swears he went through the entire palace! He checked every room and cranny for his blond mischievous troublesome son! But he knew he was going to get it as soon as he saw her face. Of course, the news that Legolas sneaked away reached her. The fury of his beloved Queen was something Thranduil would rather not experience himself. He always avoided being the main target. But it seems his luck runs out. She smiles a sickly sweet smile at him. "Honey, don't you have something to tell me about." He was doomed. His ancestors will be welcoming him very shortly to Valinor. 

He sputtered apologies after apologies. He would have knelt in front of her and taken her hands in his begging for forgiveness if it wasn’t for something blocking his steps. He looked down. The sight which welcomed him would have made him so happy if it wasn’t for his wife’s glare on him. 

Legolas was put to bed soon after having eaten dinner. As soon as his mother left his room, he lets out a smirk. His plan worked perfectly. He won his bet. He could now, erased another task from his list. ‘Get his father in trouble? Checked.’


End file.
